


in the form of stars

by fervent



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4981738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fervent/pseuds/fervent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall knows this city. Knows the streets and his friends and how to change a flat on his bike and get the heat in his apartment to work. But winter has a way of putting everything you know into contrast; the stranger you meet becomes a friend, the bartender a bike crash, the night sky a way home. </p><p>He's not looking for it when he finds it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the form of stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NatLannister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatLannister/gifts).



> thank you sharon for the light throughout, thank you amy for the beta, thank you annie for the warmth.

Niall wakes up on January third in a bullshit looking apartment downtown that he couldn’t afford if he wanted to. The curtains are thick enough to block out the crisp sun he knows is getting bright despite its distance from Earth with the season and there’s a warm boy next to him that’s hit the snooze button on the alarm twice now. He doesn’t want to leave. 

Zayn’s got time to spare, a nine am meeting in walking distance from the building his company leases for traveling employees, but Niall’s cutting it dangerously close, his bike locked up at the bar they were at five blocks from here. He risks a quick kiss anyway, knows it’ll turn longer. He can be late for once.

- 

Liam’s still out when Niall gets home later, bone tired and fucking freezing, and the apartment feels only slightly warmer than outside though he knows it’s a lot better without the windchill. Their heat is shit, though, has been as long as they’ve lived here. He adjusts the valve of the radiator in the living room that falls back in constantly and it hisses at him immediately, then opens his bedroom door to a sauna. It’s been two years they’ve lived here and they’ve all but given up on trying to get the temperature right. Summers are hot as hell with only window air conditioners and winters are constantly cold or too hot. 

He throws his shirt at his hamper and checks his phone, clears out his inbox, all the notifications on facebook he didn’t get to earlier. He’s gotten a few texts, one from Harry _Mary says you’ve gotta stop by before she’s off but don’t worry I told her you’re too busy for more than one date tonight_ , one from Liam, _left you a smoothie in the fridge! those banans i bought u were going bad_. He smiles at that, replies with a quick _Your own fault !_ and re-opens the one from Zayn earlier, a simple _Like to see you again_ that Niall can’t bring himself to respond to, doesn’t know how to even start. Knows his read receipts gave that away hours ago, but still. Feels way out of his depth.

He plugs his phone in still thinking about it, going on the second hour of today thinking about it, kind of bored with himself about it. He’d spent his Wednesday on run after run around the financial district; the same law office and the same consulting firm negotiating some contract on behalf of some other company, blah blah blah. He doesn’t get paid to know what they’re actually doing, but the receptionists are friendly enough to some blonde kid that looks cold and smiles anyway, and they all sympathize and talk shit about the managing partners and whoever. He’s been a messenger for long enough to know how to keep them at a distance but still stay friendly enough. Zayn had been a bit of the same; they'd talked but it’s stayed light, harmless. Niall had caught himself more than once wondering if he should say more or like, try harder with him, but he hadn't. Neither had Zayn, though. He's not really sure what either of them want, and that's what's keeping him from responding more than anything, not uneasy or stressed, just not particularly invested enough to decide one way or the other. 

He falls asleep still composing it only getting as far as, _We could_.

-

Niall bikes back downtown late, almost midnight after his nap and catching up with Liam, a few rounds of Call of Duty, and it’s starting to snow as he walks into the hotel, the wind cold against his face. He pulls his coat tight around himself like a hundred other winter nights in this city, silent even with the cars and pedestrians, doesn’t know how much more he can take. It’s only January, the same every year. 

He walks into the Rochester with a wave at Jude, their bellman every Tuesday, and Carrie covering the front desk, but heads straight to the bar off the lobby. It’s always quiet by the time he gets in but tonight seems especially so.  

Harry grins when he sees him then turns away, slides the martini in his hand over to a woman already handing over some cash, a good tip if Niall knows anything about how charming a bartender he is. He takes his usual spot at the far corner and waits, watches Harry rinse the stirrer and wipe the counter in front of him as the woman says something that makes him laugh.  

He’s still working here part-time on some weekdays because they hadn’t wanted to let him go after two years here and he doesn’t like saying no, but it’s perfect for the two of them; his main stint is at a lounge on the west side that isn’t Niall’s kind of scene, though Harry fits right in. He’s been his favorite bartender in the city for as long as he’s known him, going on three years now, but they’re more friends than anything else. It’s one of the few routines he has left right now, visiting him every Tuesday night, catching up. 

Harry comes over after another minute and narrows his eyes at him, hands resting on the bar, then looks meaningfully down at Niall’s neck now free from the collar of his coat he’d had on when he walked in. “Been busy, eh, Niall?” and Niall rolls his eyes, feels his cheeks flush. “As if you’ve not been keeping me waiting over here so you could chat her up, alright,” but Harry just grins as he grabs a glass from beneath the counter, “But I do know how you love to wait for it, babe...” Niall laughs and shakes his head, watches as Harry pours a careful two teaspoons of sugar into the bottom of the glass and juices half a lime above it, his hand flexing over the press and Niall lets the moment pass, or happen, lets him do what he wants with it. Lets him stir it around, intent on the contents even as Niall knows he's still thinking about him in front of him. 

It’s ice next, two scoops into a shaker that he crushes with a few turns of his wrist and a muddler, keeping eye contact with Niall the whole time like the menace he is. Niall stopped placing a drink order over a year ago and he’s only rarely even slightly disappointed by whatever Harry decides he’s getting. Tonight apparently is a mojito.   
“So what’s the scoop, is it serious?” Tears a sprig of mint off and sets it to the side, picks the rest of them off the stem and rubs them quick along the rim of the glass then drops them over the ice in the glass, gives it another careful few stirs. 

“You know me, Haz,” and Harry rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, _if it happens it happens_ , sure,” as he pours the shot of rum into the glass, “But is it _going_ to, you think?” More ice. 

Niall thinks about Zayn, only a moment. Knows it’s not, doesn’t really want it to anyway.  
“Nah, nothing serious at least.” Harry gives it a bit of seltzer, places the sprig he’d set aside on top of the last bit of ice and hands it over. “Well,” and he’s shifted back toward charming, “at least one of us is having some fun.” 

Niall smiles into his straw as he takes his first sip and Harry wanders away with a soft _Enjoy_ to help some other patron. He takes out his phone and texts Zayn back, finally, just a simple, _me too._

-

It's a slow week for his courier team for whatever reason and Niall leaves early two days in a row just in hopes of finding something to do at the shop- he sweeps the entire practice space and shakes most of the rugs over the rail out back before he gets too cold and gives up on it, runs through six songs he's been writing for the past eight months. It's been a weird year, since graduating, trying to figure out how to balance his own music with bills and rent and a social life. Without the structure of classes and performances and friends constantly around to play with he's let it slide a bit, not quite used to this kind of time management even months out. Keeps telling himself he'll get the hang of it but it just isn't looking that way. It hits him in the weirdest moments, in the grocery or at a CVS, suddenly thinking _what was the point of all that_ and having to shake it off, talk himself down. 

He’s got a lesson that evening with one of his favorite students, a fourteen-year-old that always wants to learn classic rock songs, Led Zeppelin and shit, which is funny only because it’s the same shit he started on at that age. This week they’re working on chords, though, since Niall’s managed to convince him he needs a solid foundation if he ever wants to write his own solos. It goes quick, he’s a natural and actually practices, and when his dad comes to pick him up he says something in passing about how this is the only thing he and his wife don’t have to beg him to go to every week. It feels really fucking good. 

-

Zayn has a tendency to stare that Niall’s becoming more and more aware of. He’d noticed it when they first went out, back a few weeks ago, but had chalked it up to nerves, kind of buzzed, feeling like he didn’t compare to him, this young professional with two full sleeves of tattoos, big eyes, a smirk that Niall couldn’t say no to. But tonight they’re getting dinner, not standing at a bar, and across the table Zayn keeps watching him, listening as attentively as if he’s talking about a business plan or something, not last New Year’s, losing his keys, biking all the way back to the west side to get Liam’s, the mess of it. 

They’d both ordered beers and Niall’s half through his by the time the waitress comes back for their order; he's nervous and kind of anxious and Zayn is way out of his league even if they both get burgers because they're on special. Niall knows Zayn has to be doing well for himself even if he has kept it modest when they've been out together so far. From the looks of the few things he did have lying around his temporary apartment Niall suspects he might actually favor that luxury shit he can afford at home, but he's never seen his actual home so he doesn't know. It's just a burger though. Hard to fuck that up at a bar. 

Dinner is quiet between them, but not as uncomfortable as he'd thought it might be. Zayn laughs at most of Niall's nervous jokes and Niall thinks he's one of the kindest people he's ever met, goofy when he's ordering another beer, not as sneaky as he thinks he is about paying their tab when Niall goes to the bathroom. It doesn't make any sense that he isn't completely tripping over himself trying to prove himself worthy, really, because he still thinks he's really fucking hot and he'd do just about anything to kiss him again, but it's relatively easy to just assume they're both here for ultimately the same reason. He likes Zayn a lot, enjoys just being around him. Whether or not Zayn is as awestruck by him he's probably going to end up in his bed later. It wouldn't be the first time Niall's struck gold with the same person twice for a reason he doesn't have any clue how to figure out. He’s not sure what it is, what he’s so caught up on about this. Why it doesn’t feel casual, or like he doesn’t want it to be, like they’re too good for it. 

They leave once they've both emptied their glasses. Zayn says a quiet, "Shall we?" looking at him with half a smile and a lot more in his eyes and Niall slips for the first time that night, nearly knocks his glass over. Thinks of Harry as he says a definitely fully composed, "Yeah, let's go," and pulls his coat on. Zayn picks up his scarf from where it slid off his chair to the floor and Niall can only watch as he wraps it around his neck, shivers into the touch. 

They get outside and Zayn is still all considerate, holds the door open for him and then stands a moment down the stairs in front of him. "Where are you headed?"

Niall fumbles a moment, not sure what he means before Zayn smiles quick, "I mean, I'm still at the same place but I didn't want to assume..." 

He shrugs a nod, smiles, and they start walking, Zayn close next to him as they huddle against the wind. 

It hits cold and unforgiving, and it’s like he’s reading his mind when Zayn lets out a quiet, “Don’t know how you live here all the time,” under his breath. Every winter for as long as he's lived in this city he's spent the majority of it whining about living anywhere else, suffering through the season but he stays anyway, nowhere else even slightly more promising when he really thinks about it. 

They’ve only gone a block when Zayn pulls a cigarette out from his inside pocket, some fancy metal carrying case with one hand-rolled one left in it, and he looks at Niall meaningfully before he pulls out a lighter, like _this alright?_ He's courteous about it, at least, and Niall half-smiles wondering if he remembers their walk back last time, nods a yeah then reaches out for it as soon as he takes the first drag. Zayn watches him as they cross the next street, takes it back and says, "Looks wrong on you," and Niall isn't offended at all by that, doesn't really care for it much anyway, but still. He gives him a look and Zayn shrugs, laughing, "You know what I mean. Too pure for this shit," flicking the ash into the dark. 

There are thousands of other people in any given direction from them right now and Niall suddenly feels it, the spaces out and around them, the dark sky between buildings and the lights in rooms they can't see. This city is still big enough that the parts he doesn't spend time in are full of strangers, and Zayn is one of them, new and unfamiliar and just as capable of disappearing. They're at the same level of not knowing each other but for a few things that feel important in the right context, but they could forget any of this with time, Niall knows he could, and it suddenly feels like a lot, the winter and meeting Zayn in the middle of right now. 

The whole last block Niall imagines going up with him, the elevator with metal doors polished enough to reflect them in it, he remembers that, and the way Zayn had pulled his keys from what must be the same pocket he keeps his cigarettes in. The room in the tower of the castle, so, so temporary. He can't do it, wants to go home. Anywhere else, if he's honest. Not the set of rooms Zayn spends his weeknights in. 

Zayn doesn't question it when he says so, just tells him to be safe and gives him a light kiss on the cheek as they hug goodbye. Half a block back toward the bar he hears him yell, "Tell me when you're home," and he smiles, waves over his shoulder. He will. 

-

They’ve usually got at least one person over besides them and Sophia around and tonight it's the three of them and Liam's friend Louis; Niall's going to meet Laura and that crew later anyway so he's not really invested in the marathon of _Walking Dead_ they're doing but he's still in the living room only half paying attention when they start talking about one of their other friends moving to Pittsburgh. Liam's been making popcorn for ten minutes at least and Niall isn't sure he knows who they're talking about until Louis says something about his loft on the west side being a real loss and then it clicks and Niall agrees with them aloud without really thinking about it. Louis looks over at him and for just a moment Niall feels speechless, but then Liam's piping up inviting him to his going away on Thursday, and when Niall looks back at Louis he's still watching him, waiting for an answer more intent than Liam even. 

It feels like only the slightest possibility that he's saying the right thing with his _Okay, sure_ but Louis is smiling as he looks away. 

"Lou you should really come too, he'll ask where you are," and Niall can't help it, somehow in on something and not at all, the way Louis meets his eyes across the room again and then shrugs as he turns his head toward Liam. "Eh, I dunno. He's never really forgiven me for that time..." 

Obviously Niall has no idea what he's talking about but he's always been on the outskirts of their friendship; Louis has always been kind of distant, busy with his own life, has a lot of friends but very few he gets close to. It's always unnerved him, like, they should be friends by all rights by now but they aren't. They're similar, have had multiple conversations about sports and Liam, the best hot wings in town that one time, but it's never gotten past that. Niall's never really dwelled on it, but Louis acting like he's glad to hear Niall is going to a party and come to find out he's not even going yet, the goddamn eye contact he can't seem to realize is making Niall restless, like. He doesn't know what to do with it. Why it feels like a lot all the sudden. 

"Think you just want me for my car, Payno." 

He actually winks at him before he laughs at Liam's fake outrage as he rejoins them, "Oh bullshit. Like you have anything better to do." 

Niall makes a face like he's on Liam's side, daring to, and Louis rolls his eyes at both of them. "I do, you know. I've got an exam Friday, and a busy social calendar besides you and Soph, and," but Liam chooses that moment to throw a handful of popcorn at him and this is exactly the way Niall knows their friendship. Louis brings out the goofy to-hell-with-the-consequences side of Liam and Liam makes Louis happy the same way he does everyone, just being as good a person as he is. Niall takes it as his chance to make an exit and climbs over the sofa out of the way, pulls his coat on over his sweater and grabs his helmet. By the time they've calmed down he's too warm and tying his second shoe, almost out the door.  

-

The windchill on Thursday is well below zero once the sun sets and the only thing keeping Niall committed to the party is that he doesn't have to bike the thirty blocks to whatever bar it's at. Louis shows up almost late wearing a wool coat Niall's never seen before, looking put together in a way that’s kind of rare, like he’s thought about what he’s wearing. It’s interesting, attractive, like, Niall catches himself thinking about it while he’s fidgeting on his phone waiting for Sophia, imagining him picking out his shirt, and it practically makes him blush it’s so simple and so vivid. 

Both he and Louis are giving them shit for taking so long but they’re hardly responding, and once Liam’s ready it’s not as fun to just tease Sophia putting on mascara in the bathroom, so it’s quiet as Niall adjusts his scarf. He can hear Louis’ thumbs against the screen of his phone typing something. Wants to know who he’s talking to, what he’s saying. 

Liam and Sophia finally bundle up a few minutes later and they walk down the stairwell and then outside to Louis’ Honda, three blocks down. It’s a careful step over the curb piled with snow that Niall ends up last in, delegated to the front after Liam follows Soph into the back. 

He shuts the door behind them and opens the passenger side, gets in. Louis has the heat on full blast when he turns the ignition and so all of them get a never-ending gust of cold.

The song starts. 

-

He’s noticed him before this, of course he has. There’s just never been any natural opportunity; Liam’s the only friend they have in common and Louis hasn’t been around that much. When he is, it’s always either at the outskirts of wherever they are or at the center of it. Niall’s not really that type any time, aims for more the middle circle, somewhere in between. But tonight it’s Louis and Niall and then Liam and Sophia and their friends, and while Louis had greeted some of them like they’d spent some time together, now they’re all on about some trip they’d done for spring break in college…   
Louis makes a face that Niall catches himself laughing at before he realizes and from there on it’s the two of them against the world, somehow, strangely. Louis talking shit under his breath and Niall laughing into his drink, an unconsidered hug when he can’t stop laughing after Niall queues up _Who Let the Dogs Out_ and somehow even after everyone comes around, more people bursting their section past their tables, it’s still Louis by his side, playing darts, still talking shit. They talk about college, the nights they’d lived through and when everyone was a lot more fun than they are now, why Liam ended up with a girl so much better than him, what kind of dog is the best. Louis gets pretty drunk, tells him so like four times before he gets a glass of water, and when Niall eats the orange slice on his Blue Moon and smiles around the rind, Louis laughs so hard he glows. 

It’s not until it’s winding down that they really see Liam again, also probably a little past responsible, and Niall realizes he’s the only one sober enough to drive. He and Louis say their goodbyes and bundle up again to get the car started while Liam’s blubbering about keeping in touch to Jason, who’s just as earnest and drunk and emotional, and while the cold settles any doubts Niall might’ve had about his beer still lingering, he also feels the same kind of molten buzzing in him, walking next to Louis in the dark of the sidewalk.   
“I’ll drive, if you want, I mean, probably should,” and Louis gives him this useless attempt at being surprised or something, can’t quite pull it off, “I’m fine, I think, I’m not too drunk, I can do it.”  
“Lou you just said you’d marry a potato ‘so long as it was cooked,’” and he’s laughing as he says it so he gets to watch Louis continue the streak he’s been on the past hour of laughing anytime Niall does. It’s exhilarating. He feels warm. “Okay, but you wouldn’t? It’s so fucking cold out here. How’d I drink so much more than you?” He hands the keys over to him from his pocket and gives him a serious look, stops walking as Niall takes them. “You’ve gotta promise me you’ll drive carefully. I don’t trust just anyone–” “Yeah yeah, I know. I’ll go slow.” 

Louis narrows his eyes but starts walking again, puts his hands back in his pockets. “Okay. Alright. I know. And you know. Good.” He pauses and laughs once, runs a hand over his hair. “I’m making a fool of myself, I’m sorry.” Niall just grins, “Nothing new, don’t worry,” and Louis shoves into him half-heartedly.

-

Niall shifts the driver’s seat back as prudently as he can but Louis still rolls his eyes at him, dramatic to the end and Niall laughs under his breath, puts his hands under his thighs trying to warm them. The heat is a lost cause, he thinks, had yet to feel it even slightly warmer at the end of the fifteen minute drive over earlier, and he’d left his mittens with his bike bag. Has no idea what’s taking them so long. 

Louis is looking out the windshield when he speaks next, doesn’t turn toward him even as Niall does by instinct.   
“I’m glad you’re here.” And the way he doesn’t look at him cancels out the fact that he could mean anything by that, glad Niall’s here to drive them home, glad he doesn’t have to take his hands out of his pockets. He glances over only after a moment has passed, and another one starts. Niall feels it.

“I had such a good night with you,” and Niall watches as his eyes close briefly, just past a blink, “And I know I’m drunk, and obviously you know that,” so when he opens them again it’s immediate eye contact. He pauses and half-smiles, kind of hesitant, kind of like, disbelieving. Niall feels it. _What am I getting myself into_. “But I really wanna kiss you?” His eyes tracing all over Niall’s face, “Could I?”

In the moment before he answers he thinks solidly that it’s been ages since he’s kissed someone starting like this, like flipping a switch, all nerves, anticipation, _me too, please_ , and he feels wired with it, smiles because what else can he do. His hands are still under his thighs.  
In the end he doesn’t answer at all, just shifts across the console and hits his leg into the gear shift, meets him halfway. Louis breathes out a laugh of surprise or relief, it doesn’t matter which, his mouth warm, the taste of his last beer still in the air between them. It feels just on the edge of desperate, like it’s taken too long to get to this point. Niall can’t get enough, Louis’ hands pulling at his sleeves, pulling his hat off, in his hair. He doesn’t even feel the cold.

They hear Liam’s voice telling Sophia to be careful just a moment before she’s pulling open the door and both sit back in their seats, Louis glancing over with a quiet smile before turning toward the back seat, giving them shit for taking so long. Niall is hardly listening, catches Liam saying something about the heat at least working now as he backs the car out of the space. 

-

The next morning he wakes up early, meaning to just use the bathroom and go back to sleep but Louis peeks his head out from the kitchen chewing something and he can’t not investigate, the way his body disappears back in.  
He’s made scrambled eggs and is eating them straight from the skillet off the stove, offers Niall his fork without a word. “Are you serious? We have plates, and a whole drawer of silverware…”   
“But no bacon, I noticed. No breakfast protein at all, actually… A sad state.” Niall can’t believe him.  
“Liam just always has a protein shake, or smoothie or whatever.”  
“And you?”  
Niall has this sense of impending lecture as he answers, “I don’t really eat breakfast.”  
“So count your blessings I made you the best meal of your day and eat.”

He’s not wearing a shirt, still in his jeans from last night, and Niall feels too warm in his pajamas and sweatshirt, eats the bite of eggs from Louis’ fork. Fine.

-

That week Harry makes him a hot toddy after Niall walks in half-frozen and then watches him drink it across the bar, smiling lazy in a way that only Harry Styles could in February. When he raises his eyebrows like _what did I tell you_ Niall shrugs it off, fakes a shiver he doesn’t feel and it’s worth it for the fake exasperation he gets, the way Harry turns away just to come over a minute later. It’s doing wonders to warm him up, can feel his face flushing against the dim light of the bar. Harry looks good, like he’s doing well. He doesn’t talk much about his life as a whole, kind of just shares pieces every once in a while. Tonight it’s been Anne and Gemma visiting this week, a late birthday thing, the guy he’d talked to earlier about the looming transit strike, and he’d walked him through his secret recipe for the drink Niall’s now very close to finishing. There are two bartenders on tonight and it’s Harry’s turn to go early, which should be just about any time from the way the room has mostly emptied. 

There’s an old episode of _Seinfeld_ on on the TV at the corner but it’s muted and it’s too far for Niall to read any of the captioning. He can just hardly follow the plot, something with a cartoon in _The New Yorker_ but he’s distracted anyway, texting Louis about the proposal he’s supposed to be writing in the library by his apartment. It’s a devastating image, Louis slumped at a study carrel, and Kramer reminds him too much of Harry anyway. _But do you think that’s even a fair expectation? Why am I in this program????_ He’d been planning on grad school eventually, still is, mostly, but he doesn’t envy him preparing a thesis by any means. _You knew what you were signing up for. Not even the worst part yet!! Stop whining and just do the work._ He smiles waiting, knows Louis is going to be grumpy about it but doesn’t care.  
_Oh shut up. Like to see you write a thesis about questionable truths_  
_Yeahhhhh….…same to you_

When he looks up Harry’s got an eye on him as he counts his drawer, closing out finally, that he ignores completely as he glances down at Louis’ response, an emoji with its tongue out and _Fiiiiiiiine retreating to write thanks for nothing_ then sticks his phone in his pocket, 

stands up from unlocking his bike Harry’s right there, kissing him suddenly, out of nowhere except for how it doesn't feel like anything but what it is, happenstance, always like this, and Niall goes with it, ends up with the lock pressed against Harry’s coat, hanging on. He opens his eyes after a moment and Harry's are already open as well, the fucking weirdo, so Niall laughs in surprise and breaks it, pulls away. “You wanna just come over?” and Niall does, yeah, nothing to make him say anything but yes. 

The city is quiet this late, has been for hours, and it's a quick ride south out of downtown to Harry's neighborhood, the streets going tree-lined and boulevardy, widening out the farther they get from the inner city. He follows close when Harry turns off into an alley and neither of them have much more than their eyes exposed but he can tell Harry's smiling with the way his eyes are crinkling above his scarf, gentle and warm. His legs are freezing as they pedal, weaving around each other because Harry's always messing around when they bike anywhere together and Niall always forgets but it's a quiet kind of fun, feels good to be as present as he always is around him. In it, just going wherever. 

Harry yells all the sudden and it catches Niall completely off-guard, jerks his handlebars just slightly enough to catch against Harry as he swerves. Out of the corner of his eye something quick and dark runs and only the terrible _meow_ sound it makes confirms it’s anything but a monster rat but the thought happens and vanishes just as fast because they're falling, a skid and a horrible tipping motion and Niall's on the pavement, landing hard on his hands and side through his coat. 

Maybe any other time, with any other person, it’d be anything but funny, but seeing as it’s the two of them in an alley, limbs all akimbo with their bikes on the asphalt, the cat now far out of sight, he looks up at Harry as he brushes the tiny rocks off his skinned hands and is already matching his grin. "Shit!"

They laugh a good few minutes, off and on, picking themselves up; Harry’s got a new hole in his jeans that’s soaking through and Niall’s hands are stinging like shit through his torn gloves but a goddamn cat is to blame, and Harry’s laugh is so good. He’s laughing when he pulls Niall’s scarf back around his neck, when he looks him up and down and says a sad, “Well, didn’t have much going in the first place,” that Niall shoves him for, both of them puffing out warm breath laughing as they pick their bikes up from the pavement.

They get to Harry’s place after a careful few more blocks, lock their bikes inside the garage out back and then walk quietly through the backyard, down into the garden apartment he’s had for almost a year now. Niall’s only been here a few times, mostly on nights just like this or for Sunday afternoon breakfast, Harry’s only day off. It’s never not felt like a second home, though; Harry the kind of host that remembers details: two pillows, a lot of sugar, gentle on his left. 

"How's Liam? He and Soph still good?" Niall doesn't know if it's their tradition or what Harry does when he gets home late like this but they always make some kind of midnight snack. 

He's rifling through the drawers in his fridge as he asks, pulling out a bunch of jars Niall can't really see from his spot at the counter. 

"Yeah, yeah, they're great. He's still working morning shift at the gym so haven't seen 'em too much lately." Harry turns and tosses him a block of cheese Niall's lucky to catch and gives him a grin for it, hands him a grater from the cabinet above the sink. "You could see him more if you started going," meaning _and me too_ in that only half suggestive way he does. "As if I don't get enough exercise at work, right," and Harry grins again, rinsing a tomato in the sink. “It’s good to change it up, though, variety is one of the key ingredients to a good routine.”   
Niall scrunches his face up at him, grating purposefully even as he grimaces. “You sound like him. And I don’t mean that in a good way.” Harry grins.

"Grate carefully, Ni, look at what you're doing. Gonna cut your finger off." 

Niall laughs finally, can’t help it, “God, shut up, one Liam in my life is plenty. Supposed to be my best friend, not my mom.”  
“And who says your best friend can’t be nurturing?” He’s still smiling, too sweetly to be anything but honest, has started actually assembling everything, chips on a baking pan that’s got circle shapes darkened all over it from the dumb amount of baking he does. “Just wanna take care of you,” and Niall loves him so he doesn’t say anything else.

-

Niall’s delivering a bunch of concept books to Zayn’s office later that week, only a block from the last time he’d seen him at his apartment hotel. It’s the first time he’s been this side of Park since and it feels strange with no context. He’d met him months before they’d ever really talked, in the elevator last summer. Zayn had hardly looked up from his phone when they’d gotten in but said, “Like those glasses,” as they climbed to the 30th story. Niall had said thanks and then Zayn had looked at him, really looked, and Niall had followed him out to the suite Delinquent leases and that was it, for that time. Niall hadn’t stopped wearing them until October.

Zayn’s not in town this week, though he still half-expects him in the lobby or somewhere in sight once he gets to the suite, sitting at one of the work tables in their space or walking over to say hi. It’s just the somewhat familiar people Zayn works with though, and Rita at the front desk, with her bowl of lifesavers and a _Have a good one, Niall, see you soon_. Then he’s back in the elevator, back to his bike he’s locked down the block, pulling his hat low over his ears. His hair’s getting long again.  

He stands there a moment checking his phone for his next stop, texts Liam back about the electric bill, then finally realizes the person that’s yelling “Oi, hey!” might be talking to him and when he looks up it’s Louis, jaywalking toward him, grinning as he flips off the car that honks at him. He hardly slows as he pulls him into a hug, the momentum making it more like a collision.  
“I thought that was you! That coat! How are you, what’re you doing over here?”  
It’s the middle of the afternoon on a Friday. “Just finished a run, going south next. What are you–?”  
Louis motions to his backpack, weighted where it’s resting on his shoulders. “Had to get some books before the weekend, gonna _try_ to work while I’m home, but…” Niall laughs, feels just how unlikely that is between Liam and what he knows of Louis’ family.

“Did you guys decide when you’re leaving?”   
Louis shrugs, like they’re having two separate conversation with the way he’s smiling at him; nothing Niall’s said has been remotely funny, but it’s not like he’s not smiling right back. Jesus christ.

“Eh, probably tonight, after all. I just hate that drive in the morning, traffic and shit.”   
Niall nods even though he doesn’t really have any idea; he never drives and when he does it’s definitely not in morning rush hour. 

It’s so strange to have this, to be speaking like this on a sidewalk here of all places, of all times, like they’re both waiting for something. Makes him nervous, torn between feeling like he has to hold himself back and wanting to leave, get him in a context he can expect and have some semblance of control in.  
“Are you busy? Do you have to go now? Wanna get a coffee?”  
This is the Louis he’d watched from afar with Liam, energetic and bouncing around, but there’s an overlap, that he can’t say no to him.   
“Got a minute, yeah,” and it’s worth it for the way Louis beams, “Great,” and he looks down the street, “Starbucks, or… Dunkin Donuts? Or that Thai place probably has something..?”   
“Whatever’s closest, yeah?” He’s so easy to please. Niall can’t stop wanting him.  
“Starbucks it is. I’m parked at the library still so I won’t keep you, promise.”   
 _You could._

He orders a tea, which makes Niall change his coffee to an americano for no apparent reason and Louis tells him not to stop making a scene when he offers him a five. They don’t talk about anything of substance, just Louis going on about needing to pack still, the promotion Liam’s up for at the gym. But it’s nice, it’s so nice. Louis takes his tea bags out like he’s on a timer, sets them on the lid and blows across the surface of it. Niall doesn’t want to leave. 

-

He works a double that day, signs his timesheet at the office then heads over to the shop, helps Mac set up for an in-store they’re hosting in a couple hours. The neighborhood is doing a fall festival and they always need more business, so he and a bunch of their students all have mini-sets to perform. Zayn texts him halfway through asking what his plans are for the night and he feels actual regret he’s busy, kind of misses him.

 _I’m closing, won’t be done til at least 10:30_ and Zayn’s typing back immediately, _No worries, I’ll probably be here late anyway._  
_You’re already there late, Malik. It’s 7! Work life balance bullshit !_  
Zayn sends him the smiley moon emoji and Niall laughs, doesn’t get a chance to reply before he gets a _Tell me where to go, then.  
_ He doesn’t hesitate at all once he thinks of it.  
 _The Aviary, over on the west side. Ask for Harry._

When he meets up with them later Zayn is as drunk as he was that night they’d spent together. Niall takes one look at him and immediately looks at Harry, who sheepishly holds his hands up in defeat, “Not my fault I’m the best bartender in this city, Ni.”  
“He’s right. He’s very good. Good hands.” Niall bursts out laughing and Zayn does too, puts his head in his hands. “What did you give him?”  
“He really liked the Hollow…” “So how many?”  
Zayn holds up four fingers with a smile like he’s busted and Niall just shakes his head, laughs again.  
“Alright. Just don’t stand up anytime soon, yeah? Can I get something that won’t kill me?”  
Harry just grins. “Anything you want, Horan.”

-

His alarm goes off way too early; even in the dark of morning in late winter it feels like he's only slept thirty minutes, and it's only the next time he hits snooze that he realizes it's ringing. He says _shit_ and Louis' name is on the screen when he squints at it and he swipes over before really thinking about it, says a scratchy “Hello?”once he puts his phone to his face. His clock says 3:18.  
Louis is smiling when he says, “Hi Niall,” completely unapologetic, but hesitates a moment. “I’m driving back from my mom’s and I’m falling asleep at the wheel, thought maybe I’d see if you're awake…”  
Niall’s hardly even opened his eyes.   
“I’m not, no, try someone else,” but he can’t help smiling through the end of it when Louis starts to laugh, and answering when Louis asks how his night was, how Liam’s interview went, listening when Louis narrates _this asshole semi swerving all over the place_ , imagining him speeding through the lane past him.   
“Not sure I’d want to be in that front seat right now,” and he can blame the hour for referencing so blatantly back to that night but Louis goes with it, only a hint in his tone that he knows and isn’t saying anything. “Oh bullshit, you’d be sleeping like a baby in this front seat,” and Niall laughs, “If only!”   
He pauses thinking about it, dedicating a part of his brain to imagination instead of purely trying to wake up, “Nah, no I wouldn’t. Not with that music,” not even sure what he’d heard was actually the same top 40 station as before but it’s a safe bet, especially with Louis’ reaction, “And now my perfect music taste too? Ten for ten, Niall, I’m wounded. Maybe I’ll just pull over and wait to freeze to death–” “Your taste can’t be that good if you’re talking to me to stay awake is all I’m saying,” and he means it to trail off and it does, but it leaves this soft space between them, leaves him a little hyperaware of how dark his room is around him, how awake Louis sounds now. The quiet like another blanket on him.  
“Alright, am I busted then? Maybe I did just want to talk to you,” like _what then, what do you have to say to that, hm?_ Niall doesn't have much. He smiles though, “And you couldn't have picked a time during waking hours?”  
They’ve definitely come a ways since the night at the bar, trying to figure each other out, but Niall is still surprised to _feel_ surprised about it, how easy it is to just give it as good as he gets. Louis has this way of just tricking you into his orbit, trusting you to hop in and make it up as you go, right there with him. It’s really fucking fun, and Niall isn’t totally sure what he’s doing most the time but he doesn’t care either. _If it happens it happens_ feels like something solid he’s headed toward for the first time, unexpected but all the more attractive for it.   
“No, that’s definitely third or fourth date territory for me. Sunlight, and all,” half scoffing, half too happy to really try at hiding it anymore. Niall doesn’t say anything, but it feels like Louis has to know he's grinning into his pillow about it. Something alongside the nerves that trusts Louis back, at the very least to warn him if he needs it. Luck or whatever.  

“I keep wondering why we were never friends sooner, you know?”   
Niall's eyes have fallen closed again and he pictures the road out in front of Louis, his headlights on the painted lines, hardly anyone else around, the heat on even with the window cracked. He wants to say _me too, I’ve wondered that a million times. Isn’t it too soon to feel like this_ but he doesn't. He hums and goes for the easy out, “You know Liam, very selfish. Keeps all his best friends for himself.”  
He imagines Louis grinning into the dark ahead of him, the way his eyes wrinkle up at the corners, and it’s true, “Oh absolutely. The worst friend I’ve ever made, I think, never does anything for anyone, does he?”  
“The worst. A real jerk.”  
Louis sighs and keeps the same tone, “What would we do without him?” and that’s true, enough that Niall gets distracted thinking about it, 

 It’s quiet for a moment, Niall sleepy but awake and the sounds of Louis’ car coming through the speaker every now and then. When he comes back to, he’s got a notification on his phone from his astronomy app.  
“What direction are you headed? East? Southeast?”  
Louis hums a _yeah_ and Niall pulls his laptop off his desk into bed. “Can you see the sky?”  
“Mmmm, sort of, yeah. Why?”  
“The moon?”  
“...No, not really…? ”  
“Oh wait, right, it’s a new moon tomorrow. But Jupiter should be bright, like right ahead of you. Hang on, I’m gonna go see if I can see it.”  
Louis is quiet but he’s smiling when he says _okay_ , so Niall bundles up as quick as he can, throws his scarf around his neck then climbs onto their fire escape from their back door. 

It’s bright with all the streetlights around their neighborhood but once he adjusts and figures out which way is south from the east he’s facing, there it is.  
“Oh sick, can you see it?”  
“Been looking at it this whole time, I think,” still smiling that soft way, gentle. It’s not as cold as he’d expected.  
They’re quiet again and Niall just looks at Jupiter and thinks about Louis looking at it and leaves it at that, doesn’t have to even try. “It’s at opposition tonight, which means it’s the closest to Earth it’ll be all year, so the Sun’s shining straight on. You can see its moons with like, shitty binoculars.”  
“That’s amazing.” It feels it. 

Niall goes in after another few minutes, finally shivering, and just as he closes the door Louis asks, “Do you mind– can I come to your place?” Besides a moment where his stomach kind of swoops around, Niall's thinking about what that means, him asking and him coming here, how late it feels, how early too. "I've got leftovers fresh from mom’s kitchen, and I promise I'll go right to sleep, me and Liam were supposed to get lunch after his classes anyway… I don't know why I'm justifying really, but feel free to shut me up any time…” Niall laughs even as he knows he's supposed to, says, "Yeah, sure," as certainly as he feels. "Okay, good, I'm almost into the city so I'm going to hang up, but I'll see you soon? I'll text you when I'm parked?" "Yeah, I'll let you up." Louis says a soft _bye_ and then he's gone, and Niall doesn't know what to do with himself so he puts his laptop aside, pulls a sweatshirt on, sits there a moment. The radiators won't kick on for another hour maybe, hard to say, and he knows Louis is going to have to walk from whatever spot he can find in their neighborhood so he decides on putting a kettle on, maybe he'll want tea. Tea is nice. Could be nice. No idea what he's doing. It's fine. It doesn't mean anything, even if it could. _If it happens it happens._ Right. 

Louis texts him an innocuous _here !!_ after his tea's already finished steeping. Niall had done it proper, four minutes and no squeezing the bag, all ready, scrolled through more of his timeline than he's done in ages, waited forever. The sun is only just starting to lighten the far edge of the sky, and it's snowed a bit overnight, still a little bit in the wind blowing past their kitchen window.   
He buzzes him up hoping it doesn't wake Liam or their neighbors, unlocks the front door and is waiting at the door with their two mugs of tea when Louis climbs up to #20. He's wearing that wool coat from the party, a green scarf tied tight around his neck beneath the collar. It feels like a moment he's going to remember for a probably dumb amount of time, the way he smiles at him, gentle in the light of the stairwell, and Niall smiles back, can't really say anything but _Hi.  
_ He hands him his mug as they go inside and Louis whispers, "This is better than anything I imagined coming home to, holy shit," as he sips at it, the steam over his eyes too good to be true. 

Louis takes his coat off and drinks at least half of it in one go, looks exhausted, and Niall shifts into playing host, "Are you hungry? or do you wanna shower or something...?" but Louis kind of slips past him, puts the bag of Tupperware containers into their fridge, "I'm alright, thank you. Just wanna sleep, honestly." "Okay, can do," and it feels strange to be this careful now, but that's a part of it, he supposes, catching up to each other now that they're in the same space. It feels different from anyone else he’s been with or interested in, not more or less than or that he’s never been nervous, but it’s a different kind of nerves, that feel good. He wants to go to sleep.

Louis hasn’t brought any bags in so Niall gives him some sweats from his dresser and crawls into bed, watches him unbutton his shirt and pull his jeans off. It feels so close to normal he has to swallow it down, the way he just knows Louis is going to leave his hood up after he gets the sweatshirt over his head, the way he climbs over Niall to take the left side of the bed, gets under the two comforters and wraps himself around him. He can’t help the laugh he breathes into his hair, the shiver at how cold his hands are against his skin.  

They sleep.

-

The first thing he sees in the morning is Louis shutting the door to his room behind him, as quietly as he can, and his face falls when he sees Niall’s awake but the first thing he says is, “I used your toothbrush. It’s green, right?”   
Niall smiles and closes his eyes again, pulls the blankets up over his chest. “No, mine’s red.”  
He peeks at him just so he doesn’t miss the indignation, “You’re a liar. Liam’s is red. I know it.” Niall just shrugs like _if you say so_ and the doubt on his face is so worth it, even when he gets a running start and sends him sprawling a moment later, “Your favorite color is green. You’re Irish. Don’t lie to me.”  
His hands are fucking freezing again and that’s Niall’s downfall, ultimately, sneaking beneath his shirt, “Okay, okay, yes mine’s green. Thank you for using it without permission.”  
“Just for that I’m not kissing you good morning.”   
Niall’s pretty proud that he only hesitates a moment. “Well now who’s the one that’s lying, hm?”   
He gets a very fond grin for it, and the minty taste of his mouth, far more awake than his own but sweet, gentle. Louis is still lying mostly on top of him and it’s the warmest he’s been all winter, in years maybe. He never wants to move.

-

It’s the first day he’s had to himself in a long time, it feels like, and it’s the same as any other but he can’t help noticing, or feeling, actually feeling like someone has rearranged everything, or put a new lightbulb in, something. It’s slightly disconcerting but not bad, still feels like his life. Just new, somehow, or renewed. Like he’s just come back from somewhere, though he’s been here the whole time.  
He takes his time getting out of bed once Louis actually leaves, makes coffee and listens to Harry’s latest playlist on Spotify called _Round the Bend_ while he’s waiting. It’s probably too moody for a Sunday morning but he likes it, sounds like meeting someone new. He laughs to himself and makes a note to give him shit for it this week, wonders what they’re doing, what happened Friday. 

It’s only noon when his phone rings in his hand, and he answers already smiling, “What now?”  
Louis laughs, sheepish, “I know, I know. I’m just wondering if you’re busy… Is it too soon for me to want to see you again?” Niall laughs and says no, and the tone of Louis’ voice is liquid. “Good, because Liam made me go to a vegetarian restaurant and I’m starving. Let’s get tacos.”

A half hour later Niall’s putting his scarf on and remembers Jupiter, smiles to himself. 

 _It happens_.

 

 


End file.
